No

don’t tell me to go
please
don’t send me away
oh please
can’t i make you realize?
It’s not my choice:
my arms won’t let you go
my fingers are tangled in your hair
and nothing else in the world is more important
than staying right here right now
and I can’t understand
these words coming from your mouth
telling me it’s time

What is this thing TIME
and why does it command me?

2 Comments

  1. soleilfurieux said,

    August 12, 2008 at 3:17 pm

    Is this a goodnight poem?

  2. pinksilkjournal said,

    August 12, 2008 at 3:20 pm

    yes it is. not to mention that time has never made sense to me so I resent it a little.


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